


Outsider

by slightlyoutofplace



Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-06-21
Packaged: 2017-12-15 16:16:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightlyoutofplace/pseuds/slightlyoutofplace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The planet of Kortan was advanced, the citizens had evolved to levels of intelligence that would baffle most of your scientist.  They had saved numerous planets from plagues and protected the weak from being invaded by the strong.  But as well as being loved they were one of the most powerful worlds in the galaxy.  Maybe that was why...well you will find out later.<br/>Ashleigh is the last of her kind.  Forced to conform to Earth customs and hide from the population.  It had been three years and she was starting to worry that if she kept following the rules the Doctor had asked her to keep to she never be able to live a life here.  Well not until strange circumstances brings her face to face with a certain consulting detective.<br/>Will she final find a place in this new world of will this new 'friend' force her to look for a new place to start over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Outsider

Chapter 1 

The Death of Steven Vaught

 

The wind was almost as frustrating as the smell coming from the kitchen of the restaurant on the corner of the block. So when they worked together like they were doing this morning it was bound to put Steven in a bad mood for the rest of the day. Which didn’t bother him much but his employees had other thoughts on the matter. He started to walk to work about a year ago. His wife started to jump on this health kick which, without much of a choice, he joined her in. He complained about it at first, but 30 pounds lighter he started to be more into exercise than his better half. 

Normally he would walk the long way around the block to avoid the smell of the fried foods but he was late. Well not so much late, since he was the owner of the building, more like excited about what would be waiting for him at the office today. He thought about picking up the pace and jog past the restaurant but looked down and his slacks and dress shoes and decided against it. He looked across the street at the other shops on the other side of the road. He thought maybe if he tried to forget that it was there he wouldn’t be tempted to stop in. 

He saw a familiar woman walking down the pavement that he was focusing on. He had never seen her outside the building. He would catch glimpses of her as she came or went. He looked down at his watch. She never leaves the building at this time, it was the morning. He shook the thought from his head, it wasn’t his job to keep tabs on his renters. Miss Smith should remain as what she always was, a mystery. 

The doorman opened the door for him and he went inside. Since Steve’s attention was took by Miss Smith he didn’t even notice that smell of the foods that he left behind him a year ago and managed to be as polite as he was able to be to the older man. Even if all that meant was a hello and a nod without a hint of a smile. He didn’t stop to talk to any of his employees in the lobby, he made a beeline towards his office and didn’t stop till he was at his desk. Where, like clockwork, was a plain white envelope with the loft number 5C on it. He sat down at his desk to open it grinning like he was five and just woke up on Christmas morning. He took out money from inside and counted it. Looking over his shoulder a few times while doing so even though hiis employees liked to leave him alone. They called his office his ‘cave’. In a way it did look like a cave. It had the same dirty white walls that it had when he took over building from his father. There was folders and boxes of paperwork that could have been recycled years ago packed up in the corners. After he was done re-counting the money a few times he unlocked a drawer in his desk. He took half the money out of the envelope and placed it and the remaining contents in a folder labeled ‘Smith 5C’. 

“Have you ever met Miss Smith?” A voice that Steven wished he wouldn’t have to hear again came from the lobby of the building. He cringed at the sound. He knew that it was that horrible man that for some reason was working with the police. ‘Sherlock! That was the name.’ He thought that he looked towards the open door that led out to where the conversation was taking place. Steven decided to move his desk a few weeks ago, something that he was thankful of now. That man had some sort of obsession with crime scenes; he looked at every inch of his office when he was here last week. Which Steve would just consider nothing if it wasn’t for murder having been committed on the second floor. 

Sherlock couldn’t even be talking about the murder anymore. If Steven remembered correctly he was here for about an hour searching the place before explaining ‘That even a 6 year old could see it was the girlfriend. Just look!’ then showing the police a shard of glass that he picked up from the floor seconds earlier. It came as a surprise to Mr. Williams’ wife of about twenty years. The investigation was over a few days after that. He heard that a Jane Compton was found with the murder weapon in some loft uptown. I guess she wasn’t happy when she found out that the man she was supposed to be dating was married and wasn’t planning on changing that status anytime soon.

But who Sherlock was talking about now was the Miss Smith, the same Smith that he had seen that same morning, she has rented the loft on the fifth floor for 3 years now. That was all the information they had on her. He never asked questions about the woman, she would pass by the lobby to the street but never talked to anyone. He looked down at the money that was sitting on the desk. She has paid him this way since the day she moved in, twice the amount the same day each month. He didn’t know how she got in and out without anyone noticing, but nothing was stolen. He thought about telling her that she had made a mistake in her payment but he wasn’t one to turn down money. Once the money started to show up every month he stopped asking questions. She kept to herself, never made any problems for anyone, and, now that he thought about it, he had no contact with her in the three years she has lived here. 

Steven was knocked from his train of thought when suddenly it felt like someone had slammed something heavy on the back of his head. Steven steadied himself with one hand as the other went to rub the back of his head that was still stinging. Once his vision straightened out he look around him and above. There was nothing that could of even fell to hit him, not to mention at the angle to get the back of his head. The pain was already fading and since nothing seemed out of place he decided to just ignore it. 

“How long have you worked here?” That man was still asking the doorman questions

He stood up ready to go and help the doorman get rid of the them. Steven helped the police during the entire investigation, even let them have free reign in all of the employee rooms. “Like I told you Sir she leaves each night around midnight and doesn’t come back till the early morning, but no, I do not know her personally.” 

Steven was starting to feel nervous about what that man might ask next. He looked down and the drawers next to his desk then back at the door. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea for him to go out there. He didn’t even have a file on that woman. Which would probably make them throw even more questions around. “Sherlock, she wasn’t even here when the murder happened we saw the footage.” His doctor friend finally spoke up

“I understand that, but I’m talking about the murder anymore, keep up.” Sherlock explained and suddenly Steven started to feel sick. He didn’t know why, there are landlords all over the city with no idea who actually rents from them, just that they pay. It wouldn’t be his fault if this ‘Miss Smith’ turns out to be a mass murder. 

Then, suddenly, the pain in the back of his head that never really faded started to pulse over and over. It was like an invisible force was stabbing a knife into back of his head in a rhythm. He held on the the back of his chair with one hand as the pain got worse with every pulse. He tried rubbing the pain with his other hand but it was no help. Steven was starting to sweat to the point that the little hair that he had left on his head was almost completely damp. His vision blurred till all he was able to see was the shadows that the light threw. That was when he realized that he was frozen. He looked towards the door and tried to yell for help, it was hopeless. The last thing that Steven Vaught would see was a human-like figure materialize in front of him.

\---

John Watson felt for the older doorman that had just finished the only description of this ‘Miss Smith’ that Sherlock was going to get out of him. He was probably on the end of his shift and the last thing he needed was someone making him remember each move that one of the residents have done in the past year. “She actually left not too long before you two got ...” The old man’s focus moved from them to the other side of the lobby. “Mr. Vaught, are you feeling ok?” 

John turned his attention to where the old man was looking. The owner of the building was walking out of his office and towards them. He was pale and sweating so much that the shirt he was wearing was starting to stain. “He has to climb.” the voice that came out of Mr. Vaught was not what John remembered him sounding like 

“Climb, no you aren’t climbing anywhere. You need to sit down.” John explained stepping closer to Steven

Steven turned unexpectedly toward the lifts. “He must climb, he needs to go.” The voice sounded like it was chanting. John watched as the sick man pressed the button to summon the lift to the ground floor. 

“Who must go?” Sherlock asked walking towards the man now facing away from him. But Steven didn’t answer the question that he was asked. 

“Sir, should I call your wife?” The doorman suggested towards his boss as the door opened

Sherlock glanced over at John before hurrying in the lift with Steven. John knew that the sick man in front of him was now more interesting than whatever thought was in his head a few minutes ago. So of course the next development would be to follow a man that was clearly not in the right mind. John sighed as he stepped in the elevator after his friend and, to his surprise, followed by the doorman. Sherlock watched Steven so close you might think the man was on fire. 

Once the doors closed John looked over to see that the button labled roof had been pressed. “Why are you going to the roof?” John reached across the small distance that he was from the sick man. But right before he could touch him on the shoulder the man’s head turned towards him so quick that John put his arm down. 

He saw that the man was whispering something over and over again. John looked over at Sherlock confused about what was happening. No disease that he had ever seen had made a man act like that Steven was. Sherlock replied to John’s look with an answer that did nothing to relax him. “He’s repeating the same words over and over again. ‘He must climb, he needs to go.’” Sherlock’s answer was followed by the ding of the lift as it reached the roof. Steven took a key from his pocket and inserted it to its place beside the button for roof. It took special authorization to even get on the roof of this building. John remembered from when Sherlock forced the same man that he was following on the roof today to let them up here last week. 

The doorman stopped when John paused in the center of the roof top. “It’s strange, he was so intent about not letting people up here.” John told Sherlock as he kept following the man closer to the edge of the building. 

“He doesn't want any crazies to jump.” The doorman added with a shaking voice. This was starting to be too much for the old man, but john didn’t have time to worry about him and Steven who was getting too close to the edge for comfort. 

“Sir, let’s go back to others.” Sherlock said as Steven was only few steps for the ledge. But as he expected, got no response. He looked back and Sherlock smiled then took one final step. John saw Sherlock rush towards him, but he was too late. 

Steven Vaught was dead.


End file.
